Thrilling Tales from the Cutting Room Floor
by Workparty
Summary: Ideas for multi-chapter works that didn't make the cut. Deleted scenes from existing stories. One-shots and other stories below 5k words. Essentially, a sort of catch-all anthology. Now showing: [Deleted Scene] So You Want to Hunt Ghosts — Strange notions of "safety" abound during a tour of the lab.
1. (DS) We Have Liftoff

Author's Note:

 _Hello, and welcome to Thrilling Tales from the Cutting Room Floor. Those who know me know that my editing style is to cut down rather than build up; some of those cut pieces, while perhaps not suitable for their original purpose, I would still like to have see the light of day. Thus, this collection. This will not impact the publishing schedule for anything else I have on the go, of course. Most of this content was already written to some extent, and I either thought wouldn't stand on its own as a multi-part story, or was a scene intended for inclusion in another story. The deleted scenes in particular will of course make very little sense in isolation of the relevant work, so I'll be sure to mark them separately._

 _To start us_ off, _here is a deleted scene from Disconnected chapter 15. It fills in some of the blank space between Phantom jump-starting the Specter Speeder and their arrival in the Ghost Zone later in the chapter. It is mostly fluff, which is why it was cut, but I think it says something about Phantom's relationship with each of the Fenton parents, and perhaps reveals a bit of detail behind Danny's duplication powers. Without further ado,_

* * *

 **We Have Liftoff** – 12/01/2017

Now, _this_ I could get used to.

Not the part where my life was still being threatened, directly and indirectly, by both my parents; dad's legendary driving skills seemed to have carried over to powered flight. But there was no denying that this Specter Speeder thing was probably their greatest invention, even if it was the one with perhaps the least commercial appeal.

 _First flight blew my mind, but it terrified my neighbors and the engines overheated into puddles of molten metal. Still much better than Fentonworks' other product, the Ghost Portal, which kills people and lets angry ghosts invade our town. Overall, 2 out of 5 stars, would probably just buy a hatchback next time._

Yeah, that probably wouldn't work out. Besides, this felt more like strapping yourself onto a Saturn V than a family SUV. Dad looked giddy as he carefully bumped up the thrust until we were slowly rising off the ground. I was reflecting that it was too bad Danny wasn't here because he'd really love this. He'd nerd out and start quoting Robert Goddard at me. I smiled a bit at the thought until I remembered that this was a rescue mission.

"Jack, the main flight system is a go. Get ready to take over the reaction control system, I'm cutting RP-1 and LOx in 3... 2... 1." I was quite glad mom had agreed to put down the gun for this part. I had no idea what half of that meant, but it sounded like a two-handed sort of job.

I could tell when she had done... Whatever it was, though. Abruptly the dull roar of the rockets on the other side of the hull was cut off and replaced by a quiet humming. I thought I could see a faint spectral light surrounding the entire vehicle, pulsing slightly in time with the engine. It was a strange, weightless feeling. Not unlike flying as a ghost, although obviously I was firmly rooted to the seat.

...and then dad moved the steering wheel, and we nearly rolled over into the wall. "Ha! That's right, we switched the yaw and roll controls, didn't we?"

"...Yaw control has always been on the pedals."

There followed more bickering, but not enough to fully distract from the task at hand, so I thought I'd just leave them to it. I hadn't felt anything else from Danny's mind, which I supposed was good, but I could feel a vague... Tugging? Like someone had grabbed me by the shirt and was very weakly trying to drag me over to the portal. I concentrated on it for a while. It... Felt like Danny, somehow. It was like that dorky laugh of his was calling out through space.

Very suddenly, the feeling got stronger. More vivid, too, like it was pointing me in one direction. It actually felt like I had to stop myself from being _physically_ pulled. I opened my eyes and quickly realized from the pervasive secondary colors that we weren't in Kansas.

So this was that ghost zone he had talked about. I had poked through his memories of the experience a bit, but it was quite another thing to see it with your own eyes.

Dad, of course, continued to sound like a kid in a candy store. "Core temperatures are holding steady. Ectoplasm reserves are at 61% and climbing." We shared a smile before he added, "Well, navigator, where to?"

"Oh, uh... Starboard? No, the other one. Port." Unfortunately, that caused him to turn left. "No, the other... Just... spin around to the right. To the 4 o'clock. And then... Point a bit down?"

"You don't seem particularly familiar with your home plane, ghost."

"Fancy that. It's almost like I was telling the truth when I said I've never been here before, huh?"

Mom's eyes narrowed. "Watch it."

...I may have overstepped a bit there. And as we flew along toward my other half, the strain to stay separated was only growing; manageable, but still noticeable. This little field trip really couldn't end soon enough.


	2. (One Shot) The Ultimate Ally

_Today is my birthday, but rather than (now legally) consuming alcohol I am instead posting something completely self-indulgent._ Disconnected _is currently in a... Slightly weird place, right now, but rest assured, I am not abandoning it. But more on that later._

 _Further notes on the story itself follow at the conclusion.  
_

* * *

 **The Ultimate Ally** _–_ 22/02/2017

"And who are you supposed to be?"

The man in front of him was practically bouncing on his heels, trying to hide a stupid grin by biting his lower lip. The giddy energy came close to undercutting the effect of his velvety voice. "Some would say a businessman. Others might say a hero. I'd say I'm just a guy who finally got the hang of being two things at once." His eyes were sparkling, even in the dim lighting of the back alley.

Danny Phantom took a moment to fully take in the other's appearance. A slim-cut red jacket with brushed nickel buttons sat on top of a plain white dress shirt, any form of necktie conspicuously absent. Mint green pants lead down to polished brown loafers that shone out among the loose gravel and muddy water that covered the ground. Boxy, rimless glasses sat in front of bright blue eyes, framed instead by neatly groomed black hair.

He almost stumbled at the shock of recognition, taking a few steps back. "Oh my gosh."

Dan Fenton, on the other hand, broke into an even wider grin, the merest suggestion of future crow's feet visible as his eyes crinkled. "I'll admit I cheated. I still think back to this day sometimes, so I knew exactly where and when to roll out the welcome wagon."

"Clockwork said he wanted me to face my future, but I didn't think he meant it so _literally_ _._ "

"Maybe the ghost knew that you'd want to see this with an empathetic guide." The smile had left his voice if not his mouth. " _So_ , ditch the undead look, and let's head out, shall we?" His future self made a show of stepping to the side and grandly gesturing to the end of the grimy passage, intending for the other to take the lead. As Phantom became Fenton, Danny walked forward, entirely unprepared for what lay ahead of them.

The street was flanked by a wall of buildings, forming a curving, sloping canyon done in white, with glittering glass and steel accents giving the city spires an almost surreal quality. High above the asphalt, cars flew rapidly between buildings, following ordered streets and pathways apparently only visible to them. The sun shone brightly through a deep blue summer sky, with only the barest hint of shimmering green visible. He stood there slack-jawed right until a hand firmly clasped him on the shoulder. The smile was back in the man's voice. "Danny, welcome to 2014."

* * *

"So you're filthy rich, and you don't own a car?"

"What...?" His older double blinked at Danny's question before the meaning clicked. "Oh, no, I do. But I like taking the maglev. It's much more efficient, public transit."

Danny chuckled. "I guess Sam rubbed off on you."

"Hmm."

The mostly-empty train car slid smoothly above the rail below, finally turning around a bend and out of the canyon of offices and condos. Bright sunlight beamed in through the crystal-clear windows that ran the full height of the walls and curved at the top to form part of the ceiling. Dan winced at the sudden glare and adjusted a small knob next to his seat, the glass dimming to let them see outside without risking blindness.

Danny again caught a glimpse of the strange green shimmer. It was barely visible right above them, but was much more prominent looking out at the horizon; in particular, around a series of towers that seemed to ring the entire city.

"Hey, what's up with the towers, anyway? Some kind of force field?"

Dan nodded, still staring off into the distance. "Yeah. There was a battle, once. Right near here. We're still not sure what the long-term health effects are going to be like, so you know, better safe than sorry, we filter all the air that enters Amity Park. It still allows 97% of natural light through, but the health authority is keeping an eye on the population's vitamin D levels."

"Um. That's interesting and all, but I'd kind of like to know more about that battle you mentioned...?"

"One of the last ghost attacks."

"Oh?"

The older man finally looked at Danny, searching for something. When he found it, he turned back to the window before replying. "I took care of it."

Neither of them said anything for a few moments, and the subtly dangerous whir of high voltage below their feet was the only noise to keep them company. The train began to slow down as it approached what was either a single enormous building or a collection of white and gray blocks piled carelessly by a giant toddler.

"Where are we going, anyway?"

" _La Kafejo_. It's a little hole-in-the-wall coffee shop downtown. I have a funny feeling you'll like their caraway mocha."

"Because you like it, I'm guessing?"

"It's better than it sounds, trust me."

"I'm not actually sure if I've ever tasted caraway before, so I guess I'll believe you."

The track lead straight into the building, through a force-fielded passage. Danny felt a slight rumble in his nerves as he passed through it. As soon as they were on the other side, he gasped in shock. At least half of the interior space must have been taken up by the massive atrium. The floor where the train entered was one of the lower ones; it appeared to be some kind of shopping mall, although he couldn't quite tell what was on the dozens of upper levels. Exotic looking trees and billboard-sized advertisements gave the only relief from the bright white tiles, lit by the massive corrugated skylight it had instead of a roof.

A crisply computer generated female voice announced "Downtown Amity Park" when they finally coasted to a stop.

Danny wasn't even sure where to begin, giving his companion a questioning look. Dan gave him a familiar lopsided grin."Why rebuild when you can improve, right?"

* * *

Dan had a very strange definition of "hole in the wall". The cafe was prominently placed on the fourth floor, open to the complex's atrium. It overlooked the transportation hub, the noise thankfully cut down by a series of translucent sound-absorbing panels hanging above them from tall, beige supporting columns made to resemble abstract trees. _La Kafejo_ was, as had been explained to him, popular with office workers and residents from the upper floors, but was almost empty in the mid-afternoon.

The teen was still processing Amity Park's makeover when he found himself perched on a sleek metal stool in front of a glass table, a pair of steaming beverages separating him from his counterpart. At Dan's prompting, Danny had indeed gone for a caraway mocha, his ceramic mug sweetly smelling of chocolate and licorice. Dan himself had ordered some kind of macchiato in a tall, tapered tumbler, the contents separated into several distinct layers visible from the side.

"So, you must have a lot of questions for me."

"And I'm guessing you have a lot of advice for me, right? I would."

"Less than you might think. It's like... Well, it's like when we almost died in the portal accident. Sometimes we have to go through the painful moments to come out stronger, you know?"

"...really not liking the sound of 'painful moments'."

Dan chuckled at that. He took a sip of his drink, staring wistfully off into the distance. Danny followed the man's gaze to a water feature at the far end of the vast plaza, a series of twisting stainless steel beams shaped into an abstract swan, water pouring down its bill and into the shimmering collection pool below.

After a moment, Dan dabbed a napkin at his milk-foam mustache before turning back to Danny. "You're in for some interesting times. And you know that deep down, we wouldn't have it any other way, would we?"

Danny couldn't really argue with that. "So what _can_ you tell me? What do you even do, for starters?"

"I guess I could tell you about my— sorry, _our_ , latest little venture. I took over operations at FentonWorks a few years ago. With some seed capital, I managed to turn... Our parents' research into something they'd be proud of. Once you really dig under the skin, there are all sorts of applications for ectoplasmic technologies. Gravity field generators are a big part of course, but most of the business is in intelligent computing. There've also been a few small test projects with _intra-_ dimensional portals, although you need to go from Tokyo to Los Angeles before the economics make sense on that one. Oh, there's also this guy here."

He plucked a small, discrete headset from his right ear and passed it across the table. Danny took it and looked at him dubiously. "You invented the Fenton Phone? You're about 10 years late here."

The man smiled. "It's had a few upgrades. Try it on!"

Danny shrugged and fitted it into his ear. Almost immediately, a small beep sounded from the tiny speaker. _"Registering new user... Hello, and welcome to Ally, the first communication device that_ _truly_ _adapts to the user. Please access voice functionality by saying 'Hey Ally', or by pressing the button located on the exterior of the device."_ A small beep indicated the end of the welcome message, and a wide-eyed teen looked back to the still-grinning man.

"This is crazy! How does it know I'm a new user?"

"I told you I worked with intelligent computing, right? Trust me, Ally already knows plenty about you, just from your heart rate, body temperature, tiny twitches in your muscles... Not to mention the public data networks. It can track its position in 3-space to within a few centimeters. So, you know. Chances are, it's looking at itself from a few different security camera feeds right now."

"Wait, what? Is that even _legal?_ "

Dan shrugged as if it wasn't that interesting a question. "It probably wouldn't be possible without Tucker, honestly. Most of my clients are in resources or manufacturing. Tuck wrapped up the fancy computing in a neat little package. And of course, Foley Tech provides the network access to every Ally device and something like 85% of all data producing or consuming devices in America, which streamlines things a fair bit legally."

"Heh. I guess I always knew Tucker would make it in the tech business. I hope you've got some good lawyers, though. Or is that what Sam is doing?"

"No," he said flatly. "She was off somewhere in Africa last I heard, and for all I know or care she could stay there."

"I, uh..." He sipped his mocha hurriedly. Dan was currently seething. Danny attempted to avoid eye contact but ended up in a staring contest with the creepy swan thing.

His older counterpart broke the tense silence a moment later, with a heavy sigh. "Sorry. It's just... It's been a while, but it's kind of a sore subject for me." He evidently anticipated Danny's question and cut him off. "Please, I'd rather not talk about her, if that's all right."

They lapsed back into silence, Dan deep in thought and Danny staring at nothing in particular until somewhere above them, a clock struck three. Dan smiled again. "Hey, chin up. Maybe you'll even figure it all out before it becomes a problem. Like in _The Toynbee Convector_ or something."

The smile was at last hesitantly returned. "Easy for you to say. But now that I've seen the future, I have to go back and actually do the hard part."

"Well, I can't send you back unprepared! So... How'd you like to see the old lab?"

* * *

"So, this is where I built the first chips that power Ally."

"In the old basement lab?"

"Easier than trying to find bench space at headquarters, after the last hiring blitz." Dan shrugged, as the pair walked down the sidewalk of Danny's old haunt. Far from the radically changed neighborhoods closer to the city center, the street hadn't changed all that much, aside from the buildings having considerably less paint. As far as he could tell, nothing had even changed about his own house since his time; Dan even gave the key the same jiggle to get the locking mechanism to engage properly.

"I guess I'm just surprised you managed to work ghostly technology into microchips in mom and dad's basement, is all."

"Well, we can go over the blueprints, but I suppose I had a bit of help from a ghost-in-the-know." Dan threw his burgundy jacket onto a coat rack as he passed inside the house, making a beeline for the kitchen. Danny was struggling to keep up at a comfortable pace, although at least he knew he had a growth spurt to look forward to. "Technus of all things showed up and worked out some of the kinks. The end result is a chip with unparalleled computing— no, _thinking_ capability, for its size and power requirements. It's powered primarily off the emotions of the user, don't even ask me how _that_ part works..."

"Uh, question: how did you convince Technus to help you at all? He hates me. Or he hates us, I guess."

"As it turns out, certain weapons in the Fenton arsenal can be extremely... Persuasive." There was an entirely unfamiliar glint in his eye as Dan made his way down the lab stairs. Danny didn't like it.

"You aren't saying you, what, forced him into it at gunpoint?"

"Oh no, no. I made my point very strongly once and suggested he should assist me to avoid repeats. I've learned that it's best to make your case to your fullest ability the first time. There are fewer repeat problems that way." Danny didn't like that one bit.

"So what, now we _torture_ ghosts?"

"That implies they can feel pain. True pain, the way humans do." As he reached the lab floor, he turned on Danny and once again cut off the teen's protests. "Please, please, just believe me when I say that I don't do it out of spite. I just do what is necessary to help the human race rebuild. No more, no less."

"What the hell are you rebuilding _from_ , anyway? Practically all day you've been avoiding talking about some kind of battle, but... It was worse this time, wasn't it?"

"Like you wouldn't believe. It took more power than I thought possible to incapacitate all the ghosts that were destroying Amity Park. So much energy that it blasted the 'Phantom' right out of the 'Danny', and I still barely managed to trap all the ghosts before some of them started regaining consciousness."

"Is that why I haven't seen any ghosts since I got here?"

"I didn't even care if I could remerge with the ghost half, at that point. It had been over four straight days of fighting. I don't even know how many people were... How many I couldn't save. I had to stop the invasion."

"...what did you do with them?"

"But in the end, I saved the city. The country, even. And now, by taking advantage of ectoplasmic technologies, I can save the world."

"Dan, what did you do with the ghosts?"

The man slumped over a lab bench, for a moment. When his head turned back up, Danny almost shuddered at the cold look he received. "It's a funny thing, a mind. It's got all the processing power a human could ever want, but we can't replicate it in silicon. Not yet. There's no good way to inorganically deliver cooling and energy at that kind of density. At least, not with traditional matter."

This couldn't possibly be going where he thought it was. "You didn't."

"Ghosts are surprisingly malleable, you know. If they weren't, the Fenton Thermos would never work."

"What the **hell** , man?! Are you saying all your stupid computers are keeping ghosts _captive?_ "

"No, of course not!" The response was defensive. Angry. "I've already said, I am not a cruel man. Besides, you could never trust a piece of electronics that was fully sentient. When I put the mind on the chip, I found a way to remove the higher functions. Leave the processing capability, remove the selfish motivations, obsessions, and all that nonsense."

The floor fell out from under Danny, but Dan was not deterred, walking around the bench and approaching the swaying teen with a placating gesture and what he probably considered a reassuring smile. "But don't worry! I didn't enter into this lightly. I knew the risks, so I started with the one ghost I could trust. I thought you might like that." He pointed right at Danny's ear, who was immensely grateful that there was a stool behind him when his blood ran cold and he collapsed onto it.

He ripped the Ally device away from his head and gave it a much closer look. The slick plastic glowed slightly. It tugged on the teen in a way that seemed almost... Familiar.

"You lobotomized Phantom. And put him in some stupid gadget."

"That's not entirely fair, Ally is so much more—"

"You literally took away the only good thing that has _ever_ happened to you, because... Why? Did you think cruelty would be _easier_?" He was almost hysterical. Panic and grief were threatening to overwhelm him.

"My god, you're starting to sound like Sam!"

That did it. "I can see why, you maniac! You cruel, shortsighted, sadistic, motherf—"

"—Shortsighted? This is the only damn thing that has made this future _possible!_ "

"This isn't the future! This is _murder!_ "

Dan frowned at his younger self, crossing his arms impatiently. "Hmph. Was I really this naive as a teenager?"

"Like I care what you think, psycho! I don't know what happened to you to make you this way, but I'm _never_ going to let it happen to me!"

Dan smiled that smile of his. "I already told you, didn't I? I remember this day. So I know that you'll make the right choice."

"After all, I've done what you never could. Think of how much the world has been improved because of what I've accomplished." He uncrossed his arm and his expression deepened. "You know what, it's more than that— think of all the precious human lives that could have been lost to ghost attacks. I've _saved_ them, Danny, don't you see? I saved all of them! Isn't that what we do?"

Danny forgot to back away as Dan closed the distance between them. The man's hands latched onto his cold shoulders. "Isn't that what this was always about?"

And then quite suddenly, those bright eyes were just inches from his own, caught halfway between pleading and mania. The final question came as a whisper.

"Isn't it?"

* * *

Author's Note:

 _By no means perfect, perhaps a bit rushed at the end. If I ever come back to the concept in a serious way it will probably need a full rewrite, but that is a very big "if"._

 _This story was originally conceived in December 2016, as the first entry in a series of nine stories, unconnected except by virtue of taking place in some version of the future as seen in_ The Ultimate Enemy _. I had the strange idea in mind of taking prompts for each entry in the series in some way from the tracks on the late-great-Leonard Cohen's 1992 album, "The Future". It was a bit of a non-starter, but I did write part of Democracy, Be For Real, Closing Time, and Anthem, as well as ~90% of the title track which has now been finished and edited._

 _I wanted to write it as a sort of inverse to the original, so we see a "utopia" where a fully-human Danny set about rebuilding the world, but forgets his humanity and ends up reaping similarly disastrous results. As for the setting. Regular readers may have already guessed that aging science fiction amuses me deeply, which perhaps explains why I choose to set the fanfiction I have written (so far) in 2004/2005. Thus, the future year becomes 2014, but 2004's 2014 rather than 2014 as we know it._

 _It seems as though the animators in 2005 may have been taking notes from Zaha Hadid's early-to-mid-career neo-futurist work for architectural reference, as well as what Henning Larsen was doing around that time. I had a few photos of their designs open as references for describing physical spaces. The strangely Jetsons-esque sartorial choices in the episode also gave me a flimsy excuse to incorporate Dark Danny's colors into a perfectly ghastly outfit for Dan Fenton. Even the creepy swan statue (imagine_ _a less abstract_ Flamingo _but in stainless steel and weeping water_ ) _got a name and backstory that I thought suited the theme of this future rather well, although, in the end, I cut that part since it was largely irrelevant._

 _In any event, I hope you enjoyed this little tale. Do let me know what you think, and tune in next time when I swear I will write something that doesn't involve Danny talking to himself._


	3. (DS) So You Want to Hunt Ghosts

...a moment later, Sam and Tucker were dragged inside, and the two sat next to Danny while his dad paced in front of them.

"So, Danny. You and your little friends want to hunt ghosts."

* * *

 **Chapter 13 Scene 1** \- 21/12/2016

" _This_ is the Fenton-Trias 3-Stage 550 MJ Portable Coilgun." Danny's mother picked up a beige colored, hairdryer-shaped object from the table in front of her. After his ramble had drawn to a close, Jack had called her downstairs from the Ops Center, apparently to help walk the teens through weapons training. Danny was somewhat awed at the sheer number of weapons his parents had spread out in front of them, several of which he had never seen. Awed, and also frightened.

"It was designed to fire a 5-gram hollow-point ferrectoranium projectile at a muzzle velocity upwards of 4 kilometers per second. The power supply," Maddie held up what looked like a 9-Volt battery on steroids. It was inserted into a slot in the pistol's grip with a _click_ before she continued, "stores enough charge to light a standard incandescent desk lamp for four months. When the device is in its passive cooling mode it could supply enough power for approximately 40 shots at peak performance. In the active cooling mode, the total number of shots is decreased, but in this mode, the device may achieve firing speeds of up to 50 rounds per minute. If the slug were to penetrate a ghost or other ectoplasmic construct, the resulting shards would rapidly begin to destabilize the entity and drain its energy as the core worked to eject the foreign metal and repair the damage. A single shot close enough to the core may even be enough to reduce a ghost to a puddle of dissociated ectoplasm."

She paused to set the gun down on the table. Her hand hovered for a moment; apparently deciding the weapon was out of place, she grasped it lightly, shifted it slightly to the left, and rotated it to line up with the other equipment on the table. Satisfied, she looked back up at her captive audience, smiling brightly. "So, do you have any questions?"

Danny had _many_ questions, but for the moment he was mostly just trying not to imagine what dissolving into a puddle might feel like. His lunch was threatening to put in a second appearance when an appreciated hand gave his shoulder a light squeeze, pulling him from his thoughts. With Sam's focus on him, that left Tucker to break the awkward quiet. "Uh, Mrs. F?"

"Yes?"

"It sounds like those bullets could seriously kill somebody, not just hurt ghosts. Is that thing really safe to use?"

The elder Fentons shared a laugh before his mother answered. "Oh, not at all! Besides the lethality of the projectiles to humans, it turned out the recoil was... Stronger than anticipated."

Jack shot the three teenagers a toothy grin. "I call it the Fenton Buster; it busts ghosts, _and_ bones!"

"...besides destroying our first two testing rigs, the other prototype model we built actually underwent a rapid unplanned disassembly during the final live-fire test. Still, some of the lessons we learned from this model were incorporated in our next major design iteration, and in 1985 we worked with a materials engineer we knew in college to—"

Danny finally found his voice. "Wait, so, you didn't actually bring all this out because you want to shoot at ghosts today?"

She looked aghast at that notion. "No, of course not sweetie! It would be _incredibly_ dangerous for you kids to try fighting a real ghost without proper training! Not the mention the radiation hazards, the high voltages..."

Jack was still grinning. "We just thought it might be fun for you to see this stuff! There're twenty years of ghost-hunting history on this table."

 _"OK, so I guess it's our entire family that has a seriously weird definition of 'fun'."_

'Just... Be glad they don't want us goo-ifying any ghosts. I really don't think I could handle that right now.'

Maddie correctly interpreted the lack of response as a lack of enthusiasm, though her solution was lacking. "But, if you are so keen to help us in the field, there is one 'gun' you could probably use!" None of the teens liked the way she chuckled at that.

* * *

 _Ka-chunk. Ka-chunk, ka-chunk. Ka-chunk!_

Sam pulled the staple gun away from the poster, wearing the same scowl she had given the last 37 they had put up...

* * *

Author's Note:

 _Hello! So, I was going through my folder of notes and other bits, and I stumbled across this scene I wrote for the opening of_ Disconnected _Chapter 13. It got cut because it seemed a bit cluttered. And since the "Fenton Buster" was due for an appearance in two chapters' time, I did not want to introduce a Chekov's Gun situation. Since thankfully, it was never fired. Bits of the scenes on either side included for reference._

 _Stray notes:  
\- We never did get a maiden name for Maddie in the show, so I settled on __Trias_ _somewhat arbitrarily, after the 10th-degree black belt and father of American karate, Robert Trias.  
_ _\- The numbers are also accurate, to a point. Obviously, the power supply is unreasonably energy-dense, and I am not sure why Jack and Maddie would build a gun without running the numbers on material stresses. But I liked the idea of them building something so wildly dangerous and proceeding to keep it around the house.  
\- The materials engineer was Vlad, in his first unnamed mention of the story._


End file.
